Around The Corner
by JensenAckles13
Summary: When Dean runs into the popular boy- literally runs into- his world is turned upside down by a book, a brush of fingers, startling blue eyes and the dive into uncertainty, something he's always been taught to stay away from. He's stuck with one question now; is he willing to take a chance with this mysterious boy and his beautiful blue eyes? AU
1. Chapter 1

Dean was quiet as he made his way to class, stifling a yawn in the sleeve of his sweater. It was too early for this crap. He didn't understand why the School Board had this fantastic idea to start school at seven a.m. It was pointless. The brain didn't even start functioning properly until ten. He shook his head and stepped into class, ramming directly into someone. His books slipped from his grasp and he bent down quickly, mumbling an apology, not even looking at the person, shoving his black glasses up his nose. He felt heat rise from his neck and into his cheeks and he clenched his jaw.

"Hey, don't sweat it, kid. We all have our bad days. It's cool," a deep, smooth voice said from above him. He blinked and looked up to see a tall boy with messy dark hair that fell into the most gorgeous blue eyes Dean had ever seen. Dean stared for a moment before gathering up the rest of his books and standing. The boy was only a few inches taller than him, but with those blue orbs on him, it felt like he was only three feet tall. He swallowed, Adams apple bobbing, and nodded, offering a smile, eyes moving down to his feet. The boy chuckled, and Dean couldn't help a quick glance to those perfect smiling lips and hint of pearl white teeth. He shook his head and looked anywhere but the boy's face. He settled for the tattoos wrapping around the boys biceps.  
"What's your name?" the boy asked. Dean moved his eyes back to the boys face; to the amusement and spark of curiosity hidden in the boy's eyes.

"D-Dean," he stumbled over his own name. _Smooth, Winchester, real smooth_, he mentally scolded himself. The boy's smile widened.

"Dean," the boy repeated, rolling the name around on his tongue, speaking it like a prayer. "Well, Dean, I'm Castiel." The boy held out a hand and Dean hesitated before reaching out and shaking the boy's- Castiel's- hand. The grip around his fingers was strong, practiced. Dean couldn't help but smile in return as he recognized the root words -cas and -iel; -cas as 'to fall' and -iel as 'of or from God'. He loved learning foreign, even dead, languages. His mother made fun of him for it.

"I, uh, need to get to class," Dean said, looking pointedly around the boy, who was blocking the doorway.

"Oh, 'course," Castiel said, stepping aside. Dean nodded and hurried through the doorway.  
"And Dean?" the boy called after him. Dean turned to look at him. "You might want this." Castiel handed him his book- _A Picture of Dorian Gray_, by Oscar Wilde. He felt his cheeks heat again and he took the book, pretending not to notice the sparks in his fingers as Castiel's brushed against his own. Castiel winked over his shoulder as he turned to leave. "Have a nice day, Dean!" With that, the boy was gone, disappearing around the corner.

"You too," he mumbled, cheeks still warm and fingers still tingling. He fixed his sweater, rolling the gray sleeves over the edge of the black sweater to fend off the heat raging through his body. He fixed the collar of his shirt, unfolding it and refolding it over the neck of his sweater. It was a bad habit he'd picked up when he was nervous, along with tapping his foot. He settled down at his seat in the front, brushing dirt off his book.  
He hadn't even realized Castiel had grabbed it.


	2. Chapter 2

He spent the rest of the day rushing through his classes and dreading getting home. Sammy wouldn't get out until three, so that meant Dean had an entire hour with his father…..alone. He shuddered at the simple thought. Calculus seemed to pass by far too fast.  
When the bell rang, he hurried out to his locker, pushing past jostling people and trying not to get trampled. God, he hated school hallways. He quickly opened his locker, stuffing his physics textbook into his bag and shoving everything else in his locker before slamming it shut and taking off through the crowded halls again. He just had to get out the doors before Gordon saw him- too late. Gordon was purposefully making his way through the crowd. It's not like Dean was defenseless, he wasn't. He'd taken nearly every fighting class out there- Karate, Taekwondo, Bartitsu, Surma stick fighting, and he'd even enrolled in the police academy, going through all the training to be a junior cadet and then quitting once he realized his father would never let him be an officer. He just didn't like hurting people, didn't like the throbbing in his knuckles after he'd punched them, didn't like the rush of fear and adrenaline it gave him. He stood stock still as Gordon and his three buddies, Alistair- who the hell names their kid that?- Samuel, and Michael all stalked towards him. Gordon backed him up against the locker and his bag slipped from his shoulder. _Shitshitshitshitshit….._was all he had time to think before the first fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs and making nausea roll in his gut. Another fist rammed up into his jaw as he bent double and he flew backwards, slamming into the lockers behind him with a loud crash. He looked around for help but the school halls were empty now. He'd always told himself he'd stand up for himself, fight back, but he never could bring himself to do it. Gordon fisted the material of his sweater in his hand, dragging Dean upright, his toes barely touching the ground as the taller boy sneered at him. He gagged as the collar of his shirt pressed against his Adams apple. He heard the snickers of his buddies as Alistair moved forward and rammed his fist brutally into Dean's kidney. Dean let out a sharp gasp, body involuntarily trying to curl in on itself. Suddenly, Dean was yanked free, arms wrapped around his chest. He was pushed behind someone, his back hitting the lockers, and he was staring at the back of someone's head. This someone had dark, messy hair, and Dean could see tattoos wrapping around his biceps. _Castiel_. He felt his heart take off in his chest, his palms growing sweaty, finger's trembling. How could this boy make him feel like this? Like he wasn't in control of himself anymore.

"Back off, Gordon," Castiel growled. Gordon laughed, but there was a thin set to his lips that made Dean think he wasn't as nonchalant as he'd like to be.

"I'll let you have the boy this time, Cassy, but next time, he's mine," Gordon said before nodding his head, him and his gang stalking off and disappearing around the corner. Castiel watched them go before turning to face Dean, his blue eyes wide with concern.

"Are you alright?" Castiel asked. None of the amusement from earlier was in them. He touched the tender skin on his jaw and nodded hastily. He had to get home before his dad woke up.

"Yeah, I am but I've- I've gotta go," he said before grabbing up his bag and taking off as fast as he could, legs carrying him faster than he knew Castiel would expect.

"Wait!" Castiel called after him, but his voice faded into the wind as Dean yanked the door to the school open. Dean wanted more than anything to turn around, see those big blue eyes, the messy hair, the tattoos that he had yet to find the meanings off. He remembered all too well the feeling of his back pressed to Castiel's chest in that split second he was able to relish it, and in that small moment he had felt safe. It was new and he wished desperately that he could feel like that again. Instead he pushed his legs faster, praying he would get home before his father. He made the mile and a half run in a little under seven minutes, surely one of his best times. Dread settled in his gut, fear making his hands shake again, his heart pound painfully against his ribcage, and sweat bead on his brow.  
The impala was in the driveway.  
His father was home.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as he'd stepped through the door, a hand had fisted in his hair and yanked him closer. His father's face was only inches from his own. He could smell the burn of whiskey on his breath.

"Why the 'ell are ya late, boy?" his dad slurred.

"I-I'm sorry, dad," he mumbled, unable to get anything else out before he was thrown into the wall. He bit his lip and scrambled back to his feet, flinching into the wall as his father stepped closer, swaying in his own drunken dance.

"Yo-ou're such a baaaad kid, ya know that? This is why yer momma left," his dad said as he reared his arm back and backhanded Dean. Dean's head whipped to the side with the force of the blow and he staggered.

"Please, dad, I'm sorry," he begged, moving farther away from his dad.

"Git over here," his dad said, seemingly not hearing him. He hesitated but nodded, eyes moving to the floor. Typically, his dad left his face alone- didn't leave bruises where they'd be seen. A fist plowed into his kidney and he went down with a barely concealed cry, crab walking away from his father's swinging boot. His dad lost his balance with the force of his own kick, tumbling to the ground with a string of colorful curses and an enraged shout. Without another word, he stumbled to his feet, weaving his way to the kitchen to grab himself a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel's and falling onto the couch, flicking on the TV to some war drama and taking a long pull on the whiskey. Dean hurried to his feet, looking to the clock. It was nearly three. He straightened his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to appear as though he had everything pulled together before he went out in public. His cheek still stung from the backhand and his lower back ached in time with his steps. He bit his lip, eyes moving to his father, who was just about passed out. He had been a good father, a long while ago, but he'd fallen apart after the divorce. Dean used to go back and forth between his mothers, but when he turned ten, his father claimed full custody. Dean wasn't sure how he'd actually won full custody over his mother, but he had. Dean made sure Sam still got to see his mother every weekend, though. Even if that left him alone with his father. He didn't mind- as long as Sammy got to see their mom. After all, he was only a boy, still in eighth grade.  
He didn't understand, though. What had he done to earn the wrath of his father? He tried to be the best son- get good grades, clean the house every day, make sure his dad always had enough cash for beer….Dean had a job, well, he used to. He'd been fired two days ago for showing up to work late all week. He'd just been so damn exhausted; he hadn't been getting a good night's sleep since his mother had left- she'd always been there to sing him a song to help him sleep. He'd been used to it. He'd only been five when she left. He got nightmares now, too. Nightmares of his father. Nightmares of John hurting Sammy. They robbed him of his sleep and he'd often wake up in a cold sweat.  
He shook his head and dropped his back pack on the stairs, jogging the two miles to Sam's school. His dad didn't let him take the car, ever. Said running was good for kids. Easy for him to say that when he didn't have to run all those miles. He made it to his brother's school right as the bell rang. Sammy came hurrying out, grinning at Dean, and shoved a paper in his face.

"I got an A+ on my history test!" Sam exclaimed.

"Ah, see? I told you if you let me help you study, you'd get a good grade," Dean said with a smile, taking the paper and looking it over.  
"Good job, kiddo," he said, holding up a fist. Sam smiled and bumped his against Dean's before taking the paper back. Dean chuckled and ruffled Sam's shaggy hair. Sam slapped at his hands.

"Ah, come on, man, I'm not a kid anymore!" Sam mock whined. Dean smiled widely at him.

"Whatever, kiddo. You're still a kid to me." He dodged the half hearted punch Sam aimed at his arm. It was too easy to pull up a mask for people these days. It had become like a second nature to Dean, a comfort. If he didn't have it up, he was just some emotionally wrecked teenage boy. He had a kid brother to look out for- he needed to be strong, he needed to be big brother.  
Sam took off in front of him, sticking his tongue out.

"Race ya home!" Sam yelled before sprinting off in the direction of home, almost tripping over his own feet. The kid had hit a growth spurt that summer, shooting up a good four inches, almost as tall as Dean now. Dean rolled his eyes but grinned.

"Fine, but I'm going to beat you!" Dean called and Sam ran even faster. Dean could hear his laugh rolling back with the wind. Dean's grin dropped as soon as Sam stopped looking. If he could put home off, he would, but he knew Sam had homework. And besides, Sammy was little brother. Dean could put off his own problems if it made Sam happy.  
He raced after Sam.


	4. Chapter 4

His dad was still out by the time they got home. Sure enough, Dean had let Sammy win. And he looked damn proud of it, too. He'd puffed his chest out so he looked bigger and was grinning from ear to ear. Dean smiled and gave him a light shove.

"Go do your homework, kiddo," he said. Sam sighed dramatically but that dimpled smile never fully left his face.

"Fine," Sammy said as he hitched his backpack high up on his shoulders and went to sit at the table.

Dean woke to the alarm blaring in his ear with a groan- it was only five a.m.- feeling the beginnings of a migraine pulsing behind his eyes.  
He'd finally crawled into bed at one a.m. He'd helped Sam with his homework and then began his own- Physics, French and Calculus- before he'd had to stop to make dinner. After that, he finished his homework and then had ushered him and Sammy to their respective rooms when dads work buddies had come over. Once they'd left, the house had been a mess, so Dean had spent the rest of his time cleaning up the disaster.  
He stumbled into French class with a cup of steaming black coffee, his bag slung over his other shoulder, his eyelids drooping.

"Rough morning?" a voice asked in front of him. He jerked his head upright only to find himself lost in seas of blue.

"Y-yeah," he mumbled, looking away from Castiel and taking a sip of his too hot coffee. He choked on it and spit it all over the boy's black tee-shirt. He felt heat rise all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears.  
"God dammit, I am so sorry," he cried, inefficiently pawing at the boy's chest to get the coffee off. Castiel chuckled, catching his fumbling hand in both of his own, stilling it. Dean raised his eyes to Castiel's face, only to see the boy smiling down at him.

"It's alright, kid. Don't worry about it. Accidents happen. More so when you're trying to avoid having an actual conversation," Castiel teased. Dean gulped and his eyes moved to his hand clasped between both of Castiel's.

"Yeah, okay….sorry again," he mumbled quietly. Castiel pursed his lips.

"You know you can actually talk to me, right?" Cas asked, his voice serious. Dean looked up into the boy's face. "I promise I don't bite," he said, amusement back in his voice. Dean offered a small smile and a nod and Castiel's face lit up with a brilliant smile. He took Dean's arm, leading him towards the back of the classroom, straight past where he usually sat.

"Wait, I usually….." he trailed off as Castiel pinned him with those gorgeous piercing blues. "Never mind," he mumbled, sitting next to the other boy in the back of the classroom. It felt weird sitting back here, like he wasn't supposed to. But Castiel wanted to sit with him, so he would. Or maybe Castiel was only being nice. Maybe he only wanted to sit next to Dean so Dean wouldn't be as alone. Dean tried to shake that thought away. It wouldn't work. He sighed and shifted in the seat.

"Dean?" Castiel asked. Dean glanced over and found himself staring straight into Castiel's eyes. They looked so sincere, so happy, that Dean found himself wondering why he had been so worried.  
He smiled warmly at the other boy, his first real smile in what felt like years.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel convinced Dean to go to lunch and skip his last two classes. They talked for hours about everything and nothing all at the same time. It was the most fun Dean had had in a while. They didn't talk about anything important. They talked about books and movies and music and school. Neither of them asked anything personal, but then, neither of them really had to. When Castiel had finally dropped Dean back off at the school, just before the last bell rang, they exchanged numbers and Castiel made fun of Dean's little flip phone and Dean jokingly threatened to break Castiel's IPhone. Dean stepped out of Castiel's run down Mercedes and smiled as the other boy crawled out and came over, moving as if to hug him but instead patting the small of his back. Dean smiled, his cheeks heating even if he felt more comfortable around the boy. "Bye, Dean," Castiel said, smiling a brilliant smile. "Goodbye, Castiel," Dean replied with a smile of his own. "No, no, no, don't say 'goodbye', Dean," Castiel said, clicking his tongue. "That makes it sound like we won't ever see each other again. It sounds so negative. And I really do hope we will see each other again." "Oh…" Dean smiled, cheeks heating again. "I really do hope we see each other again, too. Bye, Cas," he said, 'Cas' sliding off his tongue without him really meaning to say it. "Er, I mean, Castiel." "Hm. Cas. I like that," Castiel said with a smile before getting back in the car and waving before driving off. Dean smiled after him, getting a text from the boy not thirty seconds later. C: Hello, Dean D: Hey, Cas. That didn't take long. C: What didn't? D: You texting me. C: Maybe I wanted to talk to you more tonight. After all, tomorrow is Saturday. We won't be talking in school tomorrow Dean felt heat rise from his neck. Cas wanted to talk to him? He didn't notice the wide smile splitting his face at first. C: So, how about coffee tomorrow, eh? Maybe we can go to a movie, too D: That sounds amazing, Cas. What time? C: How bout I come get you around noon D: Sounds good! C: It's a date! Dean's smile, if possible, widened and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck before flipping his phone closed and heading towards his locker, grabbing his books and heading back outside, beginning the walk home. And then a thought occurred to Dean. Castiel didn't know where he lived. He quickly texted Castiel his address. C: Oh, haha, thanks. I probably should've asked for that D: It may have helped a bit ;) C: Oh, Dean, are you flirting with me? Dean blushed, and then looked around, hoping no one was around to see. D: I most certainly am not C: Don't worry, babe, I kinda like it ;) Dean smiled at the screen before jogging home, dropping off his bag and hurrying to get to Sam's school. He just hung out outside until Sammy got off, and of course, the two raced home. Dad was gone for 'work business' and wouldn't be home for a couple of days, according to the note he left, so they had the house to themselves. * When his alarm went off at eleven the next morning, he practically jumped out of bed. He'd told Sammy the night before so he wouldn't have to wake him up. Sam already didn't like to be woken up before damn near noon on weekends. Dean showered and got dressed, spending half an hour picking out his outfit. He settled on worn jeans and a plaid shirt with a gray sweater over, the collar and the sleeves of the plaid shirt rolled over the sweater. He paced nervously for the next five minutes. He nearly jumped out of his skin when the bell rang at noon, on the dot. He smiled, stuffed his wallet in his jeans and made his way to the front door. 


	6. Chapter 6

Castiel took Dean's hand with a smile, and Dean felt heat rise in his cheeks and he ducked his head.

"Hey, Cas," Dean mumbled, smiling.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said as he lead Dean to the sidewalk.

"It's pretty nice out, so I thought we'd go for a walk before we head out for the movie," he said cheerily. Dean smiled and nodded, letting the warm breeze brush through his hair.

As they were walking, Dean's foot slipped off the edge of the sidewalk. He let out a curse as he tumbled into Cas, taking them both to the concrete, Cas landing on Dean's chest. Dean smiled sheepishly up at Cas, but when the other boy smiled, it wasn't sheepish. It was sparkling. The older boy leaned down, gently pressing his lips to Dean's. At first, Dean was too shocked to do anything, but soon, he just began to move, not needing to know what to do. He wrapped his arms around Castiel's warm neck, his legs around the older boy's hips. He wasn't sure what, exactly, happened after that, but suddenly there was this swishing sound and they were being drenched. Castiel yelped and jumped up, dragging Dean up with him, shaking out his sopping shirt.

Dean looked down at himself with a snort. "Fantastic," he mumbled. He was soaked. The sprinklers in the yard they had fallen next to had come on. Cas was grinning widely at him. "We just kissed," the boy said, almost smugly. Dean pursed his lips and nodded.

"Yeah, I think we did," he replied, now feeling more comfortable than ever around this boy. Castiel grinned, shaking his wet head, and laughed.

"How 'bout we go hang out at the park, skip the movie and everything?" Cas asked, tilting his head to the side.

"Sounds awesome, Cas," he said, smiling. Castiel took Dean's hand, sliding his fingers through Dean's and starting to walk in the direction of the park. Dean's smile only broadened, a spring in his step that hadn't been there before. When they got there, Dean immediately went over to the swings. Castiel followed, jogging over and sitting in one and pulling Dean onto his lap. Dean smiled, leaning back to kiss Cas on the cheek. Cas smiled broadly and pushed off, swinging them. Dean turned so his legs were between Cas' and the chains of the swing, his body pressed against Castiel's. Cas' hair blew into his face as he swung and Dean laughed lightly, his eyes moving over Cas' face, stopping on the electric blue of his eyes.

"You really are beautiful, you know that?" Dean murmured.

"So are you, darlin'," Cas said in a mock Southern accent. Dean rolled his eyes, lightly slapping Cas' chest. They swung higher. Dean watched as the wind blew through Castiel's hair, sending locks flying into his face. Cas ran his thumb along the splash of freckles across Dean's nose and Dean smiled softly, leaning forward to kiss the other boy. Cas smiled and leaned forward as well, kissing a line along Dean's jaw. Dean smiled softly, relaxing into Cas' body, marveling at the way they naturally melted together.

"I don't know why we didn't do this sooner," he murmured, running his fingers through Cas' wild, dark locks.

"Well, we'll just have to do it more then, won't we?" Castiel asked. Dean smiled, seeking out the boys warm lips, and Cas' teeth gently tugged on his bottom lip. He let out a soft groan, fingers tightening on the chain of the swing. "You're gonna make us fall off the swing," Dean murmured as Cas pressed soft kisses to his collar bone, tugging aside the collar of his sweater. Castiel smiled, his eyes sparkling as he kissed a path back up to Dean's lips.

"Good."

_A/N: Okay, I know it's been quite a while since I updated. I apologize for the quality of this chapter- in my eyes it's not very well written, and I'm sorry for that. I've been busy with school, so I haven't really been able to update. Here it is, so I hope you enjoy!_


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